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Showing posts from September, 2020

Not Long Enough

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  In early November of 2002, I brought two tiny kittens to our home.   It all started with my daughter, who returned from school one day with the announcement that “Sam’s cat has kittens!   Can we have one?”  Dusty chose me as her person early on, and started our journey of eighteen years by grooming my face three times each morning.   It was so important to her that I had to let her do it, but let me tell you, if you’ve never felt a cat tongue on your eyelids, it’s not something I’d recommend.   She was full of interesting antics, from clawing a hole in a window screen to lead her brother outside to carrying Hershey’s kisses by their tags so they looked like little bells hanging from her teeth.   Salmon, tuna, and chicken were among her favourite treats, and in recent years she’d sit and cry at your feet if you dared to have any of these in the kitchen without sharing them with her.  Dusty’s mission in life was clear – she needed to look after me, and she did so consistently to

A Lingering Legacy

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As one of thirty grandchildren on each side of my family, time with grandparents who lived a few hours away was a precious commodity.  It was also precious in the sense of short supply.  While I treasured the time I did have, there were always cousins who lived closer, who had more time, who could just drop in.  I missed that.   Until my first marriage.   While there were many not-so-good things about that relationship, one tremendous bonus was my new paternal grandmother-in-law.   Nana.   Not only was her home in Toronto readily accessible from my downtown office by subway, we just clicked.  She was a tiny lady, and already about 90 years old when I first knew her, living fairly independently in her own apartment in a retirement residence.   I visited her often – usually at least once every couple of weeks – and we enjoyed long conversations about her life as a young woman, and particularly about the time she spent waiting for her would-be husband to return from World War I.    

Time for a Rest

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Do you ever find that there are times where you just have to hit a full stop and rest? For me, trying to do that at home can be hit and miss - I just keep coming on things I want/need to/should do there.  But it’s nice to get away and do just that sometimes. I’m writing this as I look over fields of harvested crops still glistening with dew (or perhaps melting frost) out the window.  This isn’t my home - it’s my friend’s.  And being here gives me a special kind of solace.  Not only do I get to enjoy our time together, but I get some good distractions as well. It’s not that I’ve been “gone for a month... drunk since I left”, to paraphrase Spirit of the West’s hit Home for a Rest, but I’m finding that this enforced separateness is doing odd things to my brain.   As an introvert, I’m typically nourished by quiet and alone time - I enjoy people, or at least, certain people or groups of them, but they can also fatigue me.  Being home and alone typically feeds me.  But right now, with all of

Never Too Small

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I was about three years old the first time I learned that I could make a difference.  How old were you – or have you realized yet that you have that power? We’re all products of our environments, but sometimes it’s surprising how quickly we absorb what’s around us.  While many of my mother’s family were heavy smokers, my parents not only didn’t smoke but worked actively with the local branch of the Canadian Cancer Society. I was a precocious child (that won’t surprise anyone who knows me personally), and while I don’t expect that any of the adults in my life sat me down at that young age and explained the details of the dangers of smoking.  After all, even the most precocious three-year-old isn’t typically a smoker yet.  I did, however, hear enough of the conversation around me to understand that smokers were at risk. None of my grandparents lived nearby, and we saw them a couple of times of year.  I’m not sure I specifically remember this occasion, but I’ve certainly heard the s

The Discount Rack

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Have you ever felt like you’re on the discount rack?  Like you matter less, whether it’s because of who you are, or what you are?  Whether it was because of your income, sex, a visible minority, or something else, it’s never a pleasant feeling. Growing up in what I considered an average community in North America , I didn’t feel this often. Yes, as a young girl in a (still) male-dominated society, there were times I was told to “be still” or “be quiet”.   Oddly, though, I attributed that less to my being female, and more to my youth, or simply being “me”.   It wasn’t until I was about thirty that I personally encountered the first incident of what I considered blatant sexism. We had a family manufacturing business – a small offshoot which had been split from the larger whole to be managed separately.   And while the staff and client base were small, production was significant and consistent, with one large client making up the majority of our work.   As the business manager, I enjo

Consequence Free

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Do you ever wake up to an “ear-worm”, a song that’s just stuck in your mind?  If you’re lucky, it’s at least one that you like! Today, I woke up with one of my favourites, “ Consequence Free ” by Great Big Sea .   When I first heard this song, I was immediately seduced with the first line “Wouldn’t it be great if no one ever got offended?                                      And wouldn’t it be great to say what’s really on your mind?”   I thought, YES!!!   As someone who tends to direct communication rather than obfuscation, I often find myself frustrated by people who don’t “get to the point”.   That’s not the only point of the song, of course, it goes on (in my opinion) to look at the many ties and obligations place on us by society and the world at large.   Are accountability and consequences such a bad thing, though? The short answer is that it depends.   Accountability, speaking generally, is good.   Consequences are often good – they help us remember the impact of ou

The Things That Matter

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Have you ever noticed that we all seem to prioritize differently?  Some people never seem to have any time to clean house, for example, while other apparently busy folks have no trouble getting that done. I’ve always felt this relates directly to who we are as individuals – what’s important to you is what’s more likely to get done.  Understand, now, that when one is working for a living, work is a priority because we want what it provides (usually, money). On the other hand, there’s a great deal of variance in priorities.   Our neighbours have beautiful gardens.   They’re truly spectacular, and worthy of a good stare.   But our neighbours only seem to spend time outside working in the gardens – and I see a great many garden-work hours going on there.   What baffles me, though, is that they don’t ever just sit and enjoy this beauty.   I, on the other hand, spend plenty of time outside, and certainly enjoy the view of my neighbours' lovely gardens.     What I don’t spend a great

The Tools You Have

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Have you ever looked at something and considered it an entirely insurmountable problem?  I know I’ve felt this way, but it doesn’t always have to be so.  Sometimes, there are solutions we just haven’t realized.  We always have tools at hand, but we might need some innovative ideas in order to use them to their best advantage. Let me tell you a story! In 2008, we moved to a new (to us) home.   I was working full-time at that point, and my honey wasn’t, so much of the rearranging fell to him (with my instruction, of course).   However, on this date, he was out somewhere – most likely picking up supplies, or perhaps even working.   I was home, and there was still some furniture to be moved around so I could finish unpacking.   One of the pieces of furniture in question was one of those long dressers.   You know, the big one with the detachable mirror.   In order to unpack a second-storey bedroom, it needed to go upstairs.   These stairs were thankfully in two installments – one instal